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know who it belongs to?”
    “No. I’ve never seen it before.”
    “Seems young to be running around by itself.” He looked up the hillside. “Its mother must be somewhere nearby. Todd, where’d you first see it?”
    “By the house.”
    “ Our house?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “Well, come on. We’d best see if we can find its owner. Must belong to one of our neighbors.”
    That stubborn look returned to the boy’s face. “I wanna keep it.”
    Shannon didn’t have a great deal of experience with children, but she was quite sure she had more experience than Matthew Dubois. She wondered how he would handle the matter, hoping—in that small, dark, rebellious, sinful corner of her heart—that he would fail miserably, if only because he’d laughed at her.
    He dropped to one knee and looked the boy in the eyes. “What if this was your puppy and you’d lost it? Would you want someone else to keep it rather than try to find its rightful owner?”
    Todd’s mouth pursed. That he wanted to say anything that would allow him to keep the puppy was crystal clear. But honesty won out. He shook his head.
    Matthew stood. “Then let’s go find who lost him.” He looked at Shannon again, that crooked smile slipping back into place. “Thanks again for helping the boy.”
    Odd. This time his silly grin didn’t make her angry . . . and she was almost sorry to watch him walk away.

5
    Ruth Ann Rutherford’s appearance was remarkably like that of her husband— rotund build, ruddy complexion, bulbous nose. She also seemed to enjoy the sound of her own voice, for she chuckled at what she’d said even if others didn’t. It was Ruth Ann who brought the Adairs a housekeeper and cook.
    “This is Sun Jie,” she said, motioning toward the petite Chinese woman who stood slightly behind her and to one side.
    She was a tiny thing, perhaps five feet tall, though barely that. Her black hair was pulled back, tight to the skull, braided and captured at her nape. She was dressed in a kind of robe made of bright purple cloth, and beneath it her legs were encased in matching silk trousers. Somewhat like pantaloons, Shannon supposed, only meant to be seen rather than hidden beneath skirts and hoops and petticoats.
    Shannon wondered how old she was. She looked to be no more than twelve or thirteen. Perhaps she would make a decent lady’s maid, but a cook?
    Mrs. Rutherford continued on, “Sun Jie’s husband, Wu Lok, owns the mercantile at the corner of Lewis and Clark Streets. I think Henry sent you to do your shopping there last week. Don’t worry. She speaks pretty good English. Better than most of her kind, I’d say.”
    Her husband? Shannon felt her eyes widen. Was it usual for the Oriental girls to be married at such a young age? What would her father have to say about that?
    Sun Jie bowed at the waist. When she straightened, her dark eyes met Shannon’s briefly before training once again on the floor.
    “Sun Jie,” Ruth Ann said, “this is Miss Shannon Adair and her father, Reverend Adair.”
    Again the girl bowed. “How do you do?” She spoke slowly but with precision.
    “Sun Jie and her husband are converts to the Christian faith,” Ruth Ann added with a smile. “Otherwise I would never suggest that you hire her to care for your home. But she’s one you can trust.”
    Shannon glanced at her father in time to see a flash of irritation in his eyes, but he subdued it so quickly she doubted Mrs. Rutherford could have recognized it. Shannon, on the other hand, was well attuned to his moods and his looks.
    Her father motioned toward the chairs in the parlor. “Please, Mrs. Jie. Won’t you sit down so we can become acquainted?”
    “They put their last names first, Reverend,” Ruth Ann said in a stage whisper, as if the young woman couldn’t hear her that way. “Easier to just call her Sun Jie.”
    “Ah.” He smiled. “Well, I do thank you for bringing Sun Jie to meet with us, Mrs. Rutherford. I wouldn’t want to impose on